Hey guys!

I know, I know, I suck. I suck big time. It has been ages since I have last updated and I am a terrible person for it! My life kind of fell apart majorly a couple of months ago and all my future plans mostly ended up in a big pile of nothing. I had to make some major life decisions and actually sort myself out. Luckily though, everything is mostly back on track and I am in a much better place and excited for the future! So yeah, real life got in the way but now that a lot of those issues have mostly been resolved I can make regular updates again! I am aiming to update once a week but I am terrible at keeping a regular schedule so, to be perfectly honest, expect sporadic updates in random bursts with no discernible pattern.

Anyway, to more important things! I want to say a huge HUGE thank you to everyone who has reviewed and followed this story! You're support has meant so much and has really been the driving force of this story - if it weren't for all of you I would have given up ages ago. If you have reviewed expect a PM from me in the near future as I don't want to reply to all your comments on here - it takes up a lot of space and I know it annoys a lot of readers.

Godric isn't in this chapter. I know I said he would be but I had so much planned for this one and it ended up only being one scene because it got completely away from me. However, I felt that what I wrote in this chapter was really important for both the plot, Milia's emotional development and for the development of her relationship with Eric. It's only one scene because if i had included everything I wanted to it would have gotten very disjointed and unconnected so i felt it was better to leave it on a more simple note.

Rated M: Violence, blood, excessive swearing.

As always, constructive criticism is always welcome.

Without further ado, here it is. Enjoy!

Chapter Nine

I sprinted out of the room like a pack of ravenous wolves were on my trail, running with a smack into the wall outside, before painfully rebounding and continuing my escape.

The hallways blurred into a grey mass as I ran, the sound of my pounding heart drowning out the noisy thump of my footsteps. Just as I reached the end of the hallway, a door to my right snapped open. I startled and briefly paused but did not pay much attention to it – my thoughts were a chaotic mess revolving around Godric.

That was a mistake on my part. Just as I flew around the corner a pale, strong hand reached out and grabbed my arm, dragging me into the room. The strength of the person grabbing me combined with the momentum from my run sent me flying inside, my feet quite literally leaving the ground as I tumbled into a hard chest.

"Oof," my breath left my body in a loud huff and I took a second to orient myself. "What the fuck?" I scrambled backwards to see my assailant and blinked in shock. The air was sucked from lungs in shock for a second time as I stared up at Eric in muted fear. I let out a small yelp and quickly backpedalled, hitting the hotel room door before adjusting my course and attempting to speed away.

Eric stood before me, arms folded over his broad chest as he watched my panicked flailing in sadistic amusement, the asshole. Sighing deeply, he reached forward to tug me back into the room, effortlessly ignoring my struggling as he forced me into a chair before closing the door.

With my heart now beating wildly in my chest, I eyed all the exits in the room, my eyes darting from window to window. Jumping from the tenth story of the building sounded a lot safer than staying any longer in a room with a vampire who hated me. I gulped.

Eric casually strode forward and gracefully sat in the chair opposite mine, leaning forward. He stared at me with unreadable eyes.

Chuckling nervously, I started to edge out my seat. "I think you have wrong the person so I'm just going to—"

"No. I have the right person. I wanted to talk to you."

I choked on my own spit in shock, spluttering and coughing in my chair as I stared at him with wide, shocked eyes. My reaction seemed to amuse him and he grinned smugly at me.

"What? I can't have a friendly…" he chose his words carefully, "chat with my favourite human?"

Quickly recovering from my shock, I snorted, giving him a flat look. "Favourite human? Do you try to kill all your favourite people, or am I just special?"

He gave me a small smile, one of genuine amusement and I had to forcefully stop myself from choking in shock again. Was he manipulating me? Trying to make me trust him? But why?

I leaned as far away from him as I could, pushing up against the back of the plush armchair as I eyed him with unbridled suspicion.

"You are correct, human –"

"Milia – my name is Milia, asshat."

"- you are not my favourite human – that highly coveted position belongs to Sookie."

I raised a brow, "highly coveted? I think you're getting ahead of yourself there."

Eric ignored me. "However, you are Godric's favourite human and, for his sake, I am trying to make amends. I think it would be beneficial for the both of us if we were to become friends."

I burst into loud, mocking laughter. "Friends? Dude, you just tried to kill me and you want to be my friend? Jesus, you're even more fucked up than I thought you were."

His eyes flashed dangerously and in less than a second he was across the room and at my throat. I gasped but did not flinch back – I didn't want to give him the satisfaction.

He took note of my reaction and smirked, lightly tracing my throat with his fingers. "You're a brave little thing, I'll give you that."

"Fuck off." I glared mutinously at him.

He applied some pressure to my throat, not enough to hurt but enough to warn me that he still held all the power in our little stand off. "So brave but so stupid," he continued patronisingly before he went back to softly stroking my throat. "If I had wanted you dead, you would be. For some reason, Godric finds you fascinating and killing you would hurt him. No, I do not want you dead and our small skirmish on the roof was just that – a small disagreement. Do you truly think you would be breathing right now if I had made a genuine attempt on your life?"

I stared at him in curiosity, wondering just how much he cared for Godric to be willingly explaining himself to a human, a human he disliked at that.

I huffed slightly, refusing to acknowledge his logic or the fact that he was actually right, dammit. He was actually telling the truth.

My attention shifted back to him and I sat up straighter. "You don't want hurt him. Why? Because he is your father?"

He paused, stopping his ministrations on my throat to give me another condescending look. "You really don't know anything about vampires, do you?"

I gave him a look and he rolled his eyes.

"Godric is my maker, not my father. It is a relationship and a bond that a human could never hope to comprehend. A maker, if they are a good one, is your friend, brother, father, lover; your everything until they release you. Even then that bond still exists – you humans do not have an equivalent or a relationship like it. I could no sooner hurt Godric than I could hurt myself."

I sat there and stared, blinking owlishly. "Wait, so – you're not biologically related?"

"You moron – is that what you have been thinking this entire time?"

I coughed, shifting in my seat. "What? No! Don't be ridiculous!" I refused to meet his eye.

He laughed. It was a low, throaty sound that held actual joy and merriment. My eyes darted back to him again as he threw his head back, giving a full body laugh that made his eyes crinkle and revealed his white teeth. I felt my breath catch in my throat at the sound, at the sight; he was achingly beautiful.

I paused. What the hell am I thinking? This is Eric – the psycho vampire who probably enjoyed drowning puppies – I couldn't be thinking about him like this! I thought of Godric and felt strangely guilty, sinking low into my seat in shame before steeling myself. No – I should not be feeling guilty. I don't owe Godric anything, nor does he have any kind of claim on me. I was being too hard on myself – of course I had a reaction like that. Eric is an immortal, powerful being that happened to be one of the most gorgeous men to walk this earth. I am just a twenty one year old mortal girl who has never left the United States before – I was having the same problem millions of humans all over the world were – being intrigued by a supernatural being. There is nothing shameful or stupid about it; in fact, it would be weird if Eric didn't fascinate me.

I had been so caught up in my internal conflict that I hadn't noticed when Eric moved back to his seat, or that the first time I had seen him give a genuine laugh it was at my expense.

"So, what? You think you can just sit me down and talk about your feelings and we're going to become BFFs?" I gave him a dirty look.

He sighed deeply. "No. I know it is going to take more than that which is why I am going to do something I have never done before – apologise to a human."

Somehow, somewhere, pigs started flying.

"Amelia Kent, I am sorry for hurting you."

Has the world ended? Has Eric been possessed? "Are you being blackmailed?" I asked suspiciously, through narrowed eyes, looking around for hidden cameras, or something to explain Eric's very out of character behaviour.

He growled lowly in frustration. "No. As I said, I am trying to make amends for Godric's sake. Do you accept my apology or not?" He snapped, looking irritated and like a small child who's mother was forcing them to apologise for bad behaviour. He was embarrassed and very out of his element, looking visibly uncomfortable and it was enough to make me pause.

On the one hand, it would certainly improve my life span if I forgave Eric, not to mention making my interactions with Godric easier. However, I'm not that easy – it was going to take more than words for me to move past Eric's actions – he had physically attacked me and threatened my life on multiple occasions – that's not something words alone can fix.

"I don't. You can't strangle me, sit me down and give me some flowery apology and think that somehow magically erases everything you did. I am going to need something more concrete than words. Apologising doesn't make people miraculously forgive you, nor does it automatically make them trust you. I don't know how old you are, exactly, but even I can tell you're practically ancient – you shouldn't need me to tell you this." I sighed deeply, massaging my aching throat and ignoring my battered body. I could feel a rage stirring in my belly, heating more and more like a furnace with every word Eric spoke. How dare he treat me the way he has. The anger that was fuelling me didn't come from feelings of humiliation or hurt – I wasn't annoyed that he had hurt me personally, per se, I was annoyed that he thought he could treat anyone in such a despicable manner. No, the emotions feeding my fury were ones of injustice and indignation.

Every member of the Kent family had an ingrained sense of morality and a pathological, almost debilitating, need to stand up for what we deemed was right, no matter the cost to us. It meant we didn't pick our battles, just dove head first into them and started fights over seemingly small, trivial things. It was the result of being raised by a cop for a single mom – a woman who was a hurricane in her own right – she had instilled in us an unwavering moral compass from a very early age.

What should have been, and often was, our greatest asset quite frequently became our biggest weakness. Our incessant need to save people, to be the hero, was our biggest flaw. There comes a point when we care too much, where our focus narrows down to one issue, and one issue alone, ultimately losing sight of the bigger picture – even disregarding what the victim themselves want. We become reckless, hotheaded, driven by only one purpose and we actually become dangerous, not only to ourselves but to others as well. There was a reason I became a fire fighter instead of a cop – this instinct, this need, for justice scared me deeply – what I could become capable of because of it was something I never wanted to find out.

I was born to be a fire fighter – I couldn't imagine my life being anything else, it actually hurt to think of a world where I wasn't one. I lived for this job and always had. Being a cop would have never appealed to me, even if I wasn't so scared of the Kent family curse. I had seen first hand what happens to a Kent family member when one of us gives in to this rage and it is not pretty – not pretty at all.

To my horror, and grim satisfaction, I felt the rage building within in me, the burning desire to show Eric just how wrong he was.

I could tell he knew there was something going on with me. From the way he leant further forward, eyebrow gracefully raised, scrutinising me with what was almost hunger. He knew I was on the verge of breaking and I could tell by his face that he was excited to see what would happen. It only made me angrier. I knew from the amused tilt of his lips that he thought my break down would end in tears and small pleas for his mercy, or something else equally demeaning and ridiculous. Unfortunately for him, I'm a Kent, and when we break, we break in a violent, destructive warpath.

I couldn't stop thinking about every word Eric had said about me, every insult he casually directed at humans, every violent or disrespectful act I had seen him commit in the short time that I had known him. I snapped.

My face twisted into a vicious snarl as I jumped to my feet, eyes aflame with the burning desire to wreck havoc. The explosion of my feelings had been long overdue – everything that happened to me since being kidnapped pouring out in an outburst of fury. I had bottled everything up, pushing it aside for later. Later. Always later – I can sleep later, I can cry later, I can be scared later. Well, later had come and it wasn't going away anytime soon.

"You son a bitch! What the hell is wrong with you? Why do you do it? Why are so awful to everyone – what makes you think its ok to act so violently and cruelly? I don't understand why you have to hurt people." Distantly, I realised I was yelling. I was like a small child, throwing a temper tantrum because the world isn't the way I want it to be.

Eric arched a blonde brow, amused and surprised.

I let out a primal, infuriated scream. "Stop with the fucking eyebrow! What are you? Some eighties villain with a bad dye job? You going to cackle evilly now? Fuck you! Fuck you, and your stupid eyebrows and your stupid attitude and your fucking goddamn super strength!"

He snorted. I saw red.

My eyes flew wildly around the room, landing on a cabinet filled with crystal glasses and decanters, arranged neatly by a glistening bottle of whisky. I flew over to it in a blind rage, barely registering the pain that flew up my foot when I stubbed my toe on an armoire. I reached inside and grabbed the biggest, heaviest looking glass and, before my mind could catch up with the rest of my body, I swiftly pivoted and sent the glass flying at Eric's head. Only, the moment the glass left my hand, Eric was no longer there. I watched as it sailed through the air in a high arc before crashing to the ground, shattering and sending shards of glass in all directions. A shard flew up and scratched my shin, leaving a delicate trail of blood behind.

The small shock of pain plunged me deeper into the depths of my fury. I had known before even touching the glass that it would never hit Eric. I had just wanted to smash things; I wanted to let out the vortex of searing and intense feelings that were crushing my ribcage. But the fact that the shard of glass intended for Eric had just hurt me instead only made the vortex grow.

I had suffered for these vampires, I had been dragged into this shit-storm of violence and mind games and pain for the simple act of saving another being's life and not once had Eric thanked me, or acknowledged me without giving some sort of criticism, some sort of insult. I couldn't even try to get a small scratch on him without somehow hurting myself in the process.

I growled and completely lost it. Everything then turned in a red blur of rage, and tears as I threw glass after glass at the Eric shaped form that zoomed around the hotel room. I never even came close to hitting him.

Through the haze of pain and anger, I grudgingly admitted to myself that maybe I was so furious because I was scared. This meltdown had been on the horizon ever since I woke up in that disgusting basement and, of course, it had to happen in front of Eric, instead of anyone who actually cared about me. The last few days had left me feeling powerless and vulnerable in a way I had never experienced before and I was terrified it was going to happen again.

Eventually my screams turned into mumbles, turned into silence. I stared blankly at Eric, who was leaning casually against a wall, without really seeing him. I collapsed numbly to the floor, leaning against a wall and hugging my knees to my chest. I was tired, so tired. Now that I had released all my pent tension and rage, I was left feeling drained. I just wanted to go home and go to sleep.

I looked at the hotel room, dimly taking note of the destruction I had caused. The room looked like the aftermath of an earthquake with broken glass glittering under the expensive lighting and shredded furniture.

I startled back into awareness when Eric shifted, the first sign of movement from him in what felt like days. Slowly, and very carefully, he moved towards me, hands held out soothingly in front of him. He approached me as though I were a caged animal, allowing me to tell him no, if I wanted. It was oddly considerate of him and for that reason alone I let him gently sit next me.

He let out a deep, heartfelt sigh. "That was… quite the emotional display there, Milia."

I heard my neck crack as my head whipped around to stare at him. Eric was looking straight ahead, studiously avoiding eye contact with me.

"You said my name!" I exclaimed, somehow dragging myself away from the lethargic state my body was in. It was like hearing my name from his mouth had sent a rush of energy flooding through me.

I could see him roll his eyes. "I see you have a firm grasp of the obvious."

I didn't even bother to dignify him with a response and instead rolled my eyes. I think it was the first time he had said my name genuinely – without an ounce of sarcasm or contempt.

We sat there in silence, each lost in our thoughts and yet a strange feeling of camaraderie arose between us – an understanding.

"Seriously though, Eric, I can't hang around you or see you if I'm constantly fearing for my safety and you can apologise all you want but I know you don't actually mean it."

Surprise flickered through his eyes, lightening fast, before he turned to examine me. "You don't think I'm sorry?"

I gave a humourless laugh. "I don't think you have ever been sorry for anything in your life. People don't apologise to other people for the sake of others – you apologise because you mean it. Don't say shit you don't mean."

He appraised me, looking at me as though he were seeing me in a new light. "Well, you are right, I am not sorry that I attacked you but, if it is any consolation, I do regret that you got hurt." He looked thoughtful for a moment. "I have an idea – a show of good faith, if you will."

"I'm listening."

"There is a tradition, an ancient one. It decrees that when a vampire offends or harms another, they must allow the aggrieved party to taste some of their blood. You are not a vampire but the same principle applies. It is a powerful and binding act but it will ensure that I will at least think twice before harming you, if I ever feel so inclined, which is far more leniency than any other human but Sookie has."

My nose scrunched up in disgust and I blanched. "Ew, dude, no fucking way. I'm not drinking your blood – that's just – ugh, so gross. I can't believe your amazing solution is some weird blood pact, I mean, do I look like I want to join a cult?"

The look he levelled me with was decidedly unimpressed. "This is not a cult, nor is it a blood pact, it is a formal expression of my regret for how I treated you. Take it or leave it."

I sighed deeply and stared at the ceiling, hoping it would miraculously provide me with another solution, or maybe just a way to turn back time. "Fine."

"Excellent." He grinned widely, teeth showing and I felt ice slide down my spine. Maybe this wasn't such a good idea.

Eric gracefully lifted a wrist to his mouth and before I could ask him what he was doing, he nicked it with a sharp twist of his head. Looking like a cat that got the cream, he offered it to me, dark red blood dripping in a steady stream down his hand.

My mouth dropped open in appalled disgust and I jerked away from him. "No way! I'm not slurping blood from your wrists, oh my god, can't you like, drip it into a cup or something?"

He let out a frustrated growl, "don't be stupid, Milia, this is a part of the ceremony. You agreed to this."

My eyes dropped down his bloody arm and I gulped. Mentally bracing myself, I shuffled forward; eyeing his wrist like it was a coiled snake.

Large cold hands slid around my waist as Eric pulled me into his arms, and I tried to suppress a shiver at the feeling of his hands on my bare skin. God, I was going to burn this crop top when I got home.

In a surprisingly gentle move, Eric softly guided my mouth to his blood. Now that I was mere inches from the small rivulets of crimson, I could smell the intoxicating scent of Eric's very essence. There was nothing I could compare the smell of his blood to, I had no reference for anything like it; the only word that could even come close to describing it was power. His blood smelled like power.

I glanced back up at him, unsure and a little afraid. I think he tried to nod encouragingly, but the effect was lost when he looked at me like I was a deer and he was a hunter. I couldn't even see the blue of his eyes anymore; his pupils were blown so wide. He stared at me with a single-minded focus that was so intense I had to look away. It had been like looking into the sun on a cloudless day, or trying to walk through an inferno. I leant forward, took a deep breath, and licked his wrist.

It was shockingly sensual. As soon as my tongue made contact with Eric's skin he made a deep noise that was somewhere between a growl and a moan. I barely noticed I was so focused on the heady taste of his blood. It was exhilarating and addictive and terrifying. It was life in liquid form and it tasted like everything and nothing all at once. It was like I was drinking an electric storm, a flavour that I instinctively knew was unique to Eric.

I didn't want it to end but all too soon Eric was reluctantly guiding my head away from him. I almost fought him, desperate to keep drinking this nectar, and then I snapped back with a visible shudder. Nectar? It was blood. I had been drinking blood.

I could feel it dripping down my chin and quickly wiped it off, now suddenly desperate to get rid of both the sensations it was giving me and the taste of it in my mouth. I stared at my bloodied hand in equal amounts fascination and horror.

"I think I'm going to be sick."

"Not quite the reaction I was hoping for." Eric's response was dry but I couldn't see his face. I refused to look at him, scared of what I might find.

"I can't believe I just fucking drank blood. That's so fucked up. What the hell is wrong with me?" I was muttering to myself, starting to have a minor meltdown and major freak out. Again. "Oh my god – I'm a cannibal!"

I heard a short huff of laughter from Eric and then his broad hands were gently tilting my face up to force me to meet his gaze. I resisted and ended up staring at his mouth.

"Look at me."

"No."

"Milia, you insufferable idiot, look at me."

"Well, that's rather rude," I mumbled but I reluctantly met his gaze anyway.

His eyes were crashing oceans, hungry for the world, wanting to consume my very being and drown me. "You moron, you are not a cannibal – I am a vampire and you are a human – we are different species."

Oh yeah. "But still – how does that really work? I mean, you used to be a human – how does that factor into this? And what about your DNA? Is vampire DNA all that different to human DNA? And the elemental components of your blood can't be that different to ours considering it also used to be human –"

"Shut up."

"- blood. Ok, shutting up now." Oh god, don't shut up, Milia, keep talking – avoid this confrontation as much as you can, avoid thinking about what you just did for as long as possible! But no matter what I told myself, I couldn't open my mouth again. Eric's eyes were daring me to challenge him but I felt strangely euphoric, like I could do anything, and that made me softer and more agreeable to Eric than I normally would have been.

"You cannot tell anyone about this – it is against vampire law to speak of the ceremony after it has been completed." Eric's grip on my chin tightened as he leaned in closer with hardened eyes.

"Another one? Seriously? How many ridiculous laws do you vampires have?"

"Milia."

I sighed. "Ok, fine. I won't tell anyone." He nodded. "Wait – what about Godric? I'm not lying to him."

He gave me a look. "And I am not asking you to. No doubt he already knows."

I gave him a deeply disturbed look. "How?"

"Vampire magic."

"Stop! Just give me an answer that isn't so fucking vague for once."

"Against the law."

I let out a muffled scream of frustration against his hand as it clamped around my mouth in a swift move to stop me.

Eric gently released me and I quickly scooted away from him, all the while grumbling about ridiculous vampires and their dramatics.

I leaned with my back against the wall and took a deep breath before slowly releasing it. What a night.

"That doesn't make us even, you know," I told Eric, trying to stare him down. "You haven't really done anything to make up for your past actions and I still don't trust you."

He gave me a flat look. "I know. To be honest, I do not care about your feelings. Everything I am doing, I am doing for Godric."

I waggled my eyebrows. "Come on, don't you like me even just a little bit? A tiny, teeny smidge?"

He rolled his eyes. "I do not hate you, I guess."

I jolted in surprise – that was more than I had expected and I couldn't help but feel the tiniest bit smug. Reverting back to the mentality of a five year old, I stuck my tongue out at him victoriously. His eyes rolled again.

"So, what now?"

"Now? Now you sleep."

Eric's eyes were unexpectedly looming before me like hypnotising orbs and before I could even register what he had said, let alone understand it, everything went dark as I fell into a deep slumber.

And there it is!

I feel so bad for poor Milia being manipulated by vampires like this again. The truth about drinking vampire blood is going to come out soon and Milia is not going to be happy about it. Also, she is going to be majorly disappointed when she discovers that "vampire magic" isn't really a thing.

So yeah, Milia had her long overdue meltdown, reached an impasse with Eric and got played yet again.

And I know loads of you are going to mention Godric and ask me where he was in all of this and all I'm going to say is that it will be revealed in due time.

I'm not sure if Eric feels too OOC in this but I tried to stay true to his character as much as possible. In the show, I felt like they portrayed him as deeply loyal to Godric and it seemed like he would do literally anything for him. He came this close to losing Godric and the only reason he didn't was because of Milia. So, to me, it makes sense that he is willing to, as he sees it, lower himself by apologising to her because it is all for Godric. He wants to do everything he can to make sure Godric sticks around. If you felt he was too OOC, please do let me know because I am never sure and would really appreciate feedback on this!

Next Chapter: We move back to Bon Temps, finally see Godric again, and get some fire fighting action!